


The Only Exception

by Forever_Johnlocked



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dear John Letter, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-21 23:40:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Johnlocked/pseuds/Forever_Johnlocked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John fight the night before John's wedding, and Sherlock writes a letter to apologise, and to make a confession.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only Exception

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Paramore's song of the same name, a link to which is provided here if anyone's interested: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S_YedxFxAHk

Dear John,  
I write this in the hopes that you will find it before you leave tomorrow morning. I write in the hopes that your last memories of our time together at Baker Street will not, as they currently stand, be the argument of earlier tonight regarding your impending marriage, but something a little fonder.

I also write to apologise for my earlier statements (although I still mean everyone one of them, a bit not good?). Yes, I, Sherlock Holmes, am apologising to you, John Hamish Watson – you even have it writing, as I know I won’t see you before you leave (You’ll leave early before I wake because you hate long, drawn out goodbyes as much as I do, and your service in the Army will have taught you to make a quiet, clean break of it). As I write, I can picture your suspicion and disbelief as you read this. Hear the sarcasm in your voice. ‘The great Sherlock Holmes never apologises!’ Except to you, John. In that respect, you are the exception to the rule.

You are the exception to a lot of my rules, actually, John. For example, I have always lived by the rule that caring is not an advantage. Ever since my childhood, when my parents’ relationship ended right in front of my eyes with broken hearts and bitter tears on all sides, my brother and I have grown up with that mantra. Learnt that caring is a distraction. That caring only causes pain and suffering. That to care is to be weak.

I have always, always believed this, John. Always repeated it to myself whenever I felt in danger of growing too close, and always kept myself at a distance, cold and aloof, telling myself that I am a ‘high functioning sociopath’ – incapable of loving or being loved. After all, what is love but a chemical reaction; a side effect of primal instinct? Fleeting, temporary, pointless.

‘Alone is what I have. Alone protects me’. Another one of my rules; indeed, I have repeated those very words to your ever loyal, steadfast self before, haven’t I? Alone means I am not dependent on anyone but myself, that no one can ever hurt me. I have always fervently believed this to be true also.

Until I met you, John. Since the very first, glorious, day I met you, you have become the exception to all of my rules, broken down every single one of the walls I had built. Slowly, slowly... how many times have you called me a machine? Or sworn that I haven’t got a heart? But slowly, surely, you have proven to me that even I need help. Oh, how you inspire me! All of your compliments and utterances are scintillating, throwing everything into a new perspective. I find it much easier to read people around you; these days even on a less superficial level, too. Your unswerving loyalty means I now even feel guilty for my ‘Black’ moods and taciturnity. You make me more human.

You, John, have somehow managed to convince me that, even though it’s all chemicals and hormones and pain, followed by bitter consequences, caring might actually be an advantage. I feel happier, more relaxed around you, more inclined to join the ordinary world and enjoy. More inclined to laugh.

I’m still perfectly aware that this letter is not going to stop you from leaving quietly in the morning, stealing away to the church to your beloved Mary (Please [you’ve even got me remembering my manners] don’t be offended by my absence at the church today, and know that I do not begrudge you the happiness you so wholly deserve. I just wish I had not be forced to leave you to seek solace in Mary’s arms, and that I had the strength to tell you this face to face), won’t stop me from slipping back into my solitary ways and pretending I’m content with this. 

But I hope that you’ll forgive me one day, my wonderful John, and know that you are, and always will be, my only exception.

Yours, 

SH.


End file.
